“Personally, if you want to know about my reading, it would be better to have me read a book out loud to you and answer some questions and talk about it and do that several times. That would be way nicer and way easier.”
~8th grade student

High-stakes testing looms large in classrooms in the spring. All year, we focus on Universal Design for Learning and Project Based Learning. We personalize learning, encourage collaboration, and attempt to use more authentic assessments. Yet, in the end students still are asked to perform on a standardized test.

This week I watched my students take the English Language Arts MCAS. They were afforded the appropriate approved IEP accommodations, and I began the week feeling positive and hopeful that they would fare well – that didn’t last long.

Students with slow processing and weak working memory do best when tasks are broken down into short, manageable chunks and scaffolded. Those with language-based learning disabilities benefit from a small prompt or clarification. Students with emotional difficulties perform best with flexibility, encouragement, and timely positive feedback. In fact, all students do, but none of this can happen on test days.

On test days, I can only stand back and watch my students plug away at arbitrary tasks, working hard for an unknown evaluator. The struggle shows on their faces and in their body language: they sigh a lot and fidget; they slump down in their seats; they rub their eyes; and they put their heads on their desks. Some even scribble angrily. Slower readers work for three and four hours. Instead of a true measure of learning, I watch it become a test of stamina and perseverance.

Todd Rose talks about the impact of perceived threat on working memory and performance. With this in mind, I invited my students to share their thoughts before the test session began: “Describe how you feel at this moment, as you sit down to take this test.”

“What if I don’t do good?”
“I’m probably gonna fail this.”
“What if I can’t read the words?”
“What if I don’t understand it?”
“I’m afraid I won’t know what to write.”
“My mom’s gonna be really mad if I don’t do good.”
“It’s like way too serious, like you are doing bills or taxes.”
“It’s so scary and intimidating, like it’s going to the president or something.”

I work all year building confidence in my students and being a cheerleader. While I recognize the premise of standardized assessments, when I hand out these tests I can’t help feeling like a saboteur. I would love to see the day when we assess students more authentically, as proposed twenty-five years ago by Grant Wiggins and as suggested to me this week by an astute eighth grader.